


eleven reasons to hate you

by mfdunklaus



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Happy suicidal prevention month!, Klaus doesn’t control his temper, LONG HAIR DUNCAN, M/M, Sorry!, but anyway, cries, enjoy :), i realize i shouldn’t have said that, i tried to make this in rich text but ao3 seems to hate me, this is just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26397835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mfdunklaus/pseuds/mfdunklaus
Summary: “11 reasons to hate you”Rated T for language
Relationships: Klaus Baudelaire/Duncan Quagmire
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	eleven reasons to hate you

**Author's Note:**

> me: i won’t fall out next time, i promise  
> me: *falls out*  
> sorry :)
> 
> Anyway guys, you’re worth it! stay alive! 
> 
> March <3

With his feet comfortably propped on the table, Duncan stared intently at the letter that had just arrived. It would be more accurate to call it an ordinary note, because it was without a return address, Packed in a clumsily folded sheet of printer's paper and wrapped several times with thin strips of transparent tape.

Even though the addressee's name really wasn't on the envelope (if it could be called that), or in the letter itself, the boy guessed who it might be from. As soon as he removed what was inside the untidy package, the doubts disappeared altogether. 

The familiar crooked letters, the speech patterns that Duncan had to listen to more than once a day, all really gave away our anonymous sender, who in general did not even think to hide. Most likely, he just forgot, or didn't think it necessary to specify the name, thinking that the Quagmire would already guess. 

In any case, the note was delivered and he was dissatisfied with the content of the received note. This is putting it mildly, because Duncan was really angry, and with each new line, the tension grew and grew, gaining new momentum and causing the boy to bite his lower lip and nervously pull the edge of his shirt with the fingers of his free hand. And there was nothing he could do about it, being simply obliged to study the written length and breadth.

  
Two days beforehand 

  
"No," Klaus said, “I'm definitely not going anywhere with you on that," he drawls, casting a dismissive glance at the matte black motorcycle with the red "Watch out, bitches" sign printed on it. Well, it's kind of... um…

“Why not?" Duncan strokes the seat with his hand, looking at his two-wheeled friend with great love in his eyes and even a certain amount of affection. “This is my favorite baby Terminator."

"Yeah ... The Terminator Kid?" the Baudelaire grimaces and grins, “Is it like you called him, I don't know, 'baby Stallone'?"  
Klaus doesn't understand much of what's just coming out of his mouth. What can you expect from the Quagmire, who looks at his friend with a quizzical quirk of an eyebrow as if he's watching some idiot. 

"Besides," Klaus tries to change the subject, "how can I ride this suicide weapon if I'm wearing flip-flops?"

Duncan looks at his friend as if he's speaking a language he doesn't know, and purses his lips.

"I'm wearing sneakers. So what?” he shrugs, jumping onto the bike. “Climb up.”

The Quagmire puts on his sunglasses as he starts the engine. Klaus scrambles after his friend and puts his hands behind his back, looking for something to hold on to. His fingers slide from the leather seat to the plastic body of the taillight.

Duncan takes his friend by the wrists and puts his hands on his waist.

“No other way?" Klaus snorts, trying to show his displeasure, only getting a low, chuckle in response.

Duncan pushes his foot off the ground and the bike rolls forward.  
With a sharp twitch of the wrist, the guy drives out into the street and rushes faster, it seems, than he’s the wind himself. Duncans already grown out hair slap Klaus’ cheeks, forcing him to press against his friend's back. Besides, if he looked over his shoulder, the contents of his stomach would definitely come out.

As soon as Duncan gets to the Baudelaire house, he slams on the brakes, and as soon as the bike stops, Klaus jumps off, no, he flies to the asphalt, feeling relatively safe.  
His head is a little dizzy, and my vision is double, and this once again inflames the situation.

“Are you fucking insane?"

Duncan grins nervously and jumps off the bike like a hero in an American blockbuster movie. God. 

“I kept to the speed limits, don't worry.”

"Yeah, as if we were speeding down a highway!" Klaus is hysterical, running his fingers through his disheveled hair.

“You almost killed us!" the Baudelaire begins again, feeling as if the ground is buckling under his feet. And all this is the result of "careful" driving best friend.

He followed the speed limits. Look at him!

"You're being overly dramatic," the Quagmire rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest and shifting his weight to his right leg.

"Yes, of course.” Klaus says, pacing slowly around the bike. “No, well... super! Excellent!” Hysterical laughter, Klaus seems to be able to wake up the whole neighborhood. Especially now, when this green eyed devil is driving him to a nervous breakdown.

"Stop freaking out," Duncan exhales, wearily rubbing the bridge of his nose and mentally counting to ten to keep from snapping, because the Baudelaire is the one he wants to be least angry with or feel any other unpleasant feelings. He wants Klaus to like him, and he knows that he does, but it seems that it is not at all as he would like it to be.   
Duncan is gay, Klaus is not.  
Well, you understand.

“Now you're telling me I'm crazy, too?" the guy practically screams, mentally hating himself for such disgusting behavior, completely uncharacteristic of the usually calm and reasonable Klaus.

“I didn't do anything..”

"Fuck you!” the Baudelaire snaps, striding towards the house, but Duncan just can't leave it like that, so he runs after him. 

"Come on! I'll drive slower next time, i promise.”

"Oh you think there’s gonna be a next time?”

"Love, calm down…

"I hate you, asshole!"

Duncan would never believe those two words. He and Klaus had been too close for almost all of the seventeen years, and there was no way there could be hatred... although, hell, there was Klaus Baudelaire.

“Yeah sure,” the Quagmire smiles broadly, which only makes Klaus more annoyed, “I don’t believe that.”

"I don't care!”

“You have no reason to hate me."

“What the hell? Oh there is quite a few”  
  
“Aha.. then what are they?”

Klaus hesitates, trying to think of something meaningful to get rid of his friend as quickly as possible.

“I can't name them right away, but I've got at least eleven of them.”

Not that he knew every one of them in advance, and the number formed itself in his throbbing head, but confidence, gushing over the edge, can make you blurt out anything.

“Great!” Duncan exclaims happily, grabbing his friend by the shoulders. “By Monday, you owe me an eleven-point list of reasons why you hate me. Maybe then I'll believe it.”

"Is this," Klaus’ eyes light up with excitement, and the guy squints, trying to find answers to his guesses in his friend's cheerful face, "a bet?"

"Well, you can call it that,” Duncan shrugs. The Baudelaire then waved away Duncans hands off his shoulders and looked around, clearly plotting something.

"Then here's my condition," the Baudelaire begins "if I win by giving you the list, you answer me any question, honestly.”

Duncan grins, because Klaus and his restless hormones will probably start asking something like if Duncan watches porn and gets off to actors. His imagination was just not enough for anything else. Well... for example, last Christmas they had another argument, under which the Baudelaire had to spend the whole day at school in a women's sailor suit, and all he could think of was, "have you ever had sex with a guy?"

"All right, and if you don't, you'll have to answer."

"Of course," Klaus nods, already had time to calm down.

"See you Monday, then! You only have two days," Duncan shouts, holding up two fingers as he jumps on the bike. “No delay, please!”

"Hey!" is all Klaus can say before his friend disappears noisily around the corner. "Oh, my gosh.”

The guy was quite sure of himself. Two days was a long time, and Klaus could do it in an hour. At least, that's what he thought until he sat down directly in front of a large blank A4 sheet, tapping the simple rhythms of some imaginary melody with his pen.  
The thoughts seemed to leave his head, and in a couple of hours he managed to whitewash as much paper as he did not seem to have in all his seventeen years.

The guy would never have thought that writing nasty things about a person can be so difficult. Although, if you write them about Duncan, you shouldn't be surprised, because he was absolutely perfect. Throwing aside his incredibly attractive face and long, thin legs, the guy had a wonderful personality that duetted with his appearance, attracting the public like a magnet, and nerves of steel, of course, since he was able to put up with Klaus for more than fifteen years.

The Baudelaire was at peace with the fact that he had one item ready from the very beginning, but which he was going to insert at the very end of the list. This was his most murderous, and therefore favorite, point. Mysterious, but at the same time so simple and ordinary reason number 11.

The guy was terribly worried when packing the note, so the envelope turned out ugly, which is why Klaus had to wrap it with duct tape to keep it from falling apart.

At about seven o'clock in the evening, just before Duncan went to check his mail, Klaus tried to slip a note into the narrow slot in the mailbox, but the envelope was too bulky, so the guy had to leave it on the lid, putting a rock on top so that his two-day efforts would not be blown away by the wind.

He could clearly see Duncan, in a pair of loose-fitting gray house pants and a baggy black t-shirt, going outside to check if the postman had left anything for them, too.  
The surprised look on his face when he discovers the envelope the Baudelaire left behind is nothing compared to anything else. Klaus was smiling brightly, hiding behind a thick, sprawling tree that hung over the Quagmires house like a huge green umbrella.

As soon as Duncan disappears through the door, holding several letters that were already taken from the mailbox a minute earlier, Klaus jumps on his bike and goes home. No, of course he came here on a Bicycle. What else if they live too far apart to walk, but too close to each other to call a taxi or ask their mother for a ride?  
It's not even worth talking about. However, just a fact.

...

  
“What have you got?" Isadora asks, sprawled on the sofa, her eyes pointing directly at the envelope. Duncan looks up at his sister in surprise, then shrugs and runs up the stairs to his room. Quigley and Izzy look at each other and chuckle in unison.

As for Duncan himself, he was pretty sure that this unattractive package was meant for Him. The strange thing is, he hoped it was from Klaus, but he also prayed it wasn't. He didn't really want to read eleven reasons to hate himself. Especially written by a guy that Duncan loves so much that he's ready to break the nose of anyone who even utters something bad in his direction (although usually the Quagmire was very friendly and never engaged in physical abuse).

When he had rid the contents of the extra paper, he slowly unfolded the neatly folded piece of paper, closing his eyes so that he could not see the entire contents. Slowly opening his eyes, the guy stared at the sheet of paper, where he wrote, it seems, a whole novel. The same horribly crooked handwriting that he saw made the boy smile for a moment. He loved that damn crooked-ass handwriting that only two people in America (Klaus and Duncan) could understand. No one else was able to do it. With difficulty, perhaps, but only the author himself or his best friend could read the whole paragraph freely.

  
_Um ... Look, I really don't know where to start. The smartest thing to do would be to just write the damn list down, right? I think I just want to make sure that you read everything in order, and don't go straight to the last one and write it off as the "most interesting"one. Isn't that how your logic works?_  


Duncan grins.

_Anyway, I hope you'll do as I tell you. For God's sake, promise me. Just take it and say "I Promise."_

  
“Promise.”

_Yes, I know, stupid. You won't say that, though I sincerely hope that you have at least mentally made that little vow to me._

_So, my first condition is: you finish reading everything in order. And only in order. I can't tell you what to do, and I don't think I can check it out, but I hope you don't let me down._

  
"Of course not. the Quagmire snorts, because he would never even think of doing anything against Klaus. Even if this "something" seems so insignificant.

_So, second: after reading the first five points, don't be nervous or angry. You should save this for last._  
_Third: after the tenth reason, close your eyes and count to ten. I know very well that it helps you calm down._

  
Duncans face lights up again.

_Above all: as soon as your eyes touch point 11, please don't be mad at me. I don't want you to hate me after this. If you want, you can write the same list. I'm sure you'll be much better and more eloquent._

  
The boy's eyes fade. How could he hate Klaus? This is simply impossible! What is so terrible about this ill-fated item number 11?  
Duncan looks down at the very bottom line, but then closes his eyes, because he promised to read everything in order, which means that he will do it.

_Oh, and one more thing, let me know that you've read all the reasons. To do this, you can just send me a message. I think you can come up with the text yourself._  
_So, let's go?_

> _11 reasons to hate you_

_1) you Are "too beautiful", as my sisters say, and next to you I look like a gray mouse. You probably already forgot, but when we were in intermediate school, I liked one, at that time, a girl. Rachel Mcflyer…_

  
Duncan remembered. And, that's fine.

. _..She would have agreed to date me if it wasn't for you and your big green eyes. All she did afterward was talk about you. You have no idea how disgusting it feels when a person you like falls in love with someone else right in front of your eyes. I won't say that I consider myself a freak, and you, I admit, with your pretty face, it's hard to call Johnny Depp, but it's clear to a fool that people like you._  
_The girl left, i’m done. Honestly._

Duncan knows that feeling well. 

_2) You love cats (ha, who would doubt it?), and I can't stand them. First, I'm allergic, and second, I just don't like them. Selfish and all of them so independent. They eat your food, they go to your toilet, and then you praise these things. And don't tell me that not all cats are what I imagine them to be. I know it's not true, but I can't help it. It may be a stupid reason, and it's certainly a strange one, but knowing me, I don't think you'd mind too much._

Duncan sniffs and glances briefly at his cat, Matilda, who is snoring on the bed.

_3) you probably think it's all funny, but for me, each of these points means a lot. You know very well how nervous I can be, and my temper has not worked out, I'm sorry, I can't do anything about it, unfortunately. That's the kind of person I am. And you, for sure, are now sitting and laughing..._

  
Duncan sits with a calm expression on his face, not knowing what to think or how to react. So many new things can be learned about a person just from a couple of lines. One designation of Klaus as a "gray mouse" still haunts and seems to have no plans to let go. Duncan had always thought of his best friend as the most beautiful guy in the world, and this was the main part of Klaus’ personality, and a perfect complement to his own peace of mind, Duncan thought.

_...Here's another reason, you're too ambiguous about everything. You never take what I say seriously. This is unbearably annoying. Your eternal "Aha-Aha" to all questions and statements. That's when I really hate you._

_4) well, let's move on, my dear friend._  
_You seem to like the fact that all the students at our school are hanging around you when I can only talk to you. I don't know if you're doing this on purpose, but all my old friends have strangely started ignoring me, all they do is hang around His Majesty, you. Seriously, I really don't know how this could be related, but I think you're involved after all…_

  
Duncan swallowed a mouthful of saliva and put the letter aside, pouring water from a decanter into a glass. After drinking half of it, the boy exhales heavily. 

Why was he so worried? The problem is that he was actually involved in everything that Klaus said in point four. The Quagmire was just jealous of him. To every damn post. Duncan really turned all the school children around against each other, so that everyone, this fragile hearted person could turn to was Duncan. Did he feel remorse? Not until tonight.

_5) Oh Yes, my friend, the sinister five! :)_  
_I won't talk about it, but I'll get right to the point. Remember when the Shadow came to visit last year? You were still dragging me home drunk… Actually, why did I get drunk, please tell me…_

  
The Quagmire was ready to beat himself up if he did something wrong again, although he had no idea what might have happened at the Shadow concert, because Klaus was really having a lot of fun that day. In a quiet pool... Right?

... _If you remember the concert, you should also remember that the next contest was "Your voice", I think it was called that, although it is not particularly important, because you definitely understood what I mean._  
_And, of course, you probably remember how long I dreamed of participating in it. I really wanted and prepared for it all_ _summer, and being completely confident, I decided to take part. Let me remind you, you hated these kinds of events, but, hell, you decided to participate. The usual spontaneous decision. One of the billion you've accepted before. Do you know what's most offensive? You won. I know how a friend could be happy, but I just couldn't understand how YOU, who sang the first song that came to mind without even getting ready, could get around me? It's strange to hate a person for something like that, but I wouldn't hate you for it. It's just a piece, a shard,_ so to speak.  


“Damn! How could I know that?!” Duncan yells, slamming his heel against the nightstand and settling his feet back on the table.

“Dunc? Did something happen?” He heard his brothers voice come from the other room. 

"It's okay! Everything is great! Leave me alone!”

_6) I hope you're relaxed. Yes? Great job._  
_Here's the sixth reason, you're a terrible slow-witted person! How many times have I been taken points during lessons when I tried to get through to you on a test so YOU wouldn't write a bad grade? I can't even list them. You didn't even thank me afterwards. What can I say about apologies? I'm certainly not one of those nerds for whom any rating below excellent is a good reason to buy soap and rope, but I'm not particularly happy to get something undeserved, being always ready._

_7) so, and now I will tell you one shocking news... so ... drum roll... And-and… Anyway, I know you're gay…_

  
Duncans eyes bulge, barely digesting what he's read, because the guy seems to have hidden his sexuality quite carefully. At least, the Quagmire was sure of it.

... _Quite a while ago, by the way. The second year, if not the third. Don't think it was a cause for hatred. At the very least, it would be wrong. But then I have a question for you, what the fuck:) you, fuck?! For two years, TWO years, I've watched you steal every girl from under my nose. And you didn't even sleep with them. None of them. What was all this circus about? To annoy me? You knew very well how I felt about each of them, and how I wanted what girls of twelve or_ _fourteen usually want. I wanted romance and... well, Maybe not much, but I liked each of them very, very much. You knew this better than anyone else, BUT you still continued your raids. Do you even know how stupid I felt? Yeah, you don't give a shit._

_8) You're just an asshole. Think back to an evening two days ago and you'll know what I mean._

  
Duncan was relieved to think that it didn't seem to be that bad. Apparently, Klaus was writing in almost the first offense that came to mind, although, to be completely honest, there were some things that really hurt a lot.

_9) I'm terribly infuriated by your image! Why do you pretend to be the perfect guy, showing off in front of girls (not even guys, by the way) at school? You’re so healthy, sweet, and hot, but being alone with me is a hell of a lot more than the dream of all the idiots in our school. Tell me, why is it so? Why are you so sweet and kind to them, and all you do to me is try to make me mad, you fucking idiot?!_

  
He was just real with him. 

_10)The tenth reason is this: I hate you, because because of your bad influence, I seem to have become gay, too. Congratulations, dumbass. And Yes, be careful with the last point. I'm just warning you._

The boy ran a hand through his hair, wiping cold sweat from his forehead, and sighed. He had expected something more terrifying than the bright chance that he might one day be able to capture the heart of his friend.

before reading the last paragraph  
Harry took a deep breath and let it out, slowly removing his finger from the line.

…

  
from Duncan :)  
To: Klaussssksksks  
Text: I read it.

From: Klaussssksksks  
To: Duncan :)  
Text: ...

From: Duncan :)  
To: Klaussssksksks  
Text: You won! Ask any question.

From: Klaussssksksks  
To: Duncan :)  
Text: And you will answer it honestly?

From: Duncan :)  
To: Klaussssksksks  
Text: I Think so.

From: Klaussssksksks  
To: Duncan :)  
Text: What do you think about the last point?

From: Duncan :)  
To: Klaussssksksks  
Text: You gotta be kidding me. That’s the question?

From: Klaussssksksks  
To: Duncan :)  
Text: I asked what you thought of it. 

From: Duncan :)  
To: Klaussssksksks  
Text: Stupid question. You could have asked for something less predictable.

From: Klaussssksksks  
To: Duncan :)  
Text: This is not an answer. Speak up!

From: Duncan :)  
To: Klaussssksksks  
Text: I think it’s mutual

_11)The biggest reason to hate you so much is because I fucking love you._

**Author's Note:**

> pay me in Kudos and Comments if you liked the story :)


End file.
